


Clockwatching

by coreopsis



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-26
Updated: 2005-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his team under the influence of an alien date rape drug, John has to save them all from themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clockwatching

John Sheppard had seen a lot since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, but the Clallarral were the first skeevy aliens he'd met. It was almost fascinating, even as it was off-putting, that an entire race of people could make every single word out of their mouths, no matter how innocuous on the surface, sound like the dirtiest innuendo. The children were not allowed to talk to adults from offworld, so John had no idea if they spoke the same way the adults did and he was rather happy with that. Skeevy children would be harder to deal with than their adult counterparts.

At first it was interesting that everyone was half-naked, but John couldn't help feeling unsettled when random Clallarralians invaded his personal space, their hands touching his bare arms while their hips and thighs brushed against his. He looked over to see how Teyla was handling it, hoping for a hint as to how he was supposed to react, but she smiled tolerantly at everyone around her. Rodney smacked a woman's hand away and John spoke under his breath. "Just let it go, McKay."

"So we just let them molest us, then?" Rodney snapped in what he probably thought was a whisper.

John gave the Clallarralians around him a sheepish grin. "Pay him no mind."

He tried to politely decline the drink that the head woman of the village offered the team, but it became clear that they couldn't refuse without causing offense and maybe ruining their chance to reach a trade agreement. The woman smiled as they drank, a crafty leer that made John swear to himself that there was no way the team was going to split up for the night. If anyone in Pegasus had discovered date rape drugs, it would be these people.

And sure enough, as he walked down the long corridor that connected the main hall with the guest quarters, uncomfortably aware of something hot and unsettling teasing his nerve endings, a Clallarralian that John hadn't met stepped out of the shadows and kissed him. A pounding heat in his blood made him raise his hands to the man's face and open his mouth instead of laying the guy out on the floor with a nine mil pointed between his eyes. John whimpered when big warm hands grasped his shoulders and--oh, more hands grabbed his hips-- the man's mouth abruptly jerked away from his.

He opened his eyes to see Teyla pressing the man into the wall, apparently chewing on his bottom lip. But then Rodney's hands cradled John's face and Rodney's open mouth settled on his throat, and John groaned and dropped his head back as he felt his cock fill and rise. He looked up at Ronon, who still held his hips. "Get Teyla...and...the room," John managed to gasp before Rodney moved up and took his mouth in a desperately dirty kiss.

The next thing he was aware of besides his aching dick and Rodney's incredibly hot mouth was Ronon shoving his hand inside John's waistband and dragging John and Rodney the few yards to the rooms that had been set aside for them. Teyla got there under her own steam, walking backward and groping Ronon every couple of steps. John didn't see what happened to the Clallarralian who'd started all this. He had just enough sense to hope that Ronon hadn't killed him.

They'd each been assigned a private room, but when they reached the first door, John shoved it open and said, "Everybody inside."

Ronon bolted the door behind them and fell to his knees in front of John. John clutched at the fly of his pants and tried to get his head around what was wrong here, and there was something definitely wrong about Teyla pulling Rodney's face down into her cleavage with one hand while grabbing at John's ass with the other. "Wait. Just...everybody FREEZE." His order was followed to the letter, which he hadn't really expected. "Teyla, I think Rodney needs to breathe."

Teyla released Rodney's head and he drew back so he could take a deep breath, but then he started to lean forward again. John shoved Ronon over onto his butt and told him to stay, then reached out and grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and pushed him toward the opposite side of the room. Teyla gave him a cat-eyed smile that chilled him to the bone even as it made his dick nearly throb with need.

"Everybody just needs to keep their hands to themselves for a minute. Don't you all realize something's not right here?"

"It was that last drink." Rodney nodded with a dawning look of comprehension and lucidity. "We're under the influence of alien sex drugs. Oh, yeah, that's just...great." On the last word, his indignation faded back into lust as he stared speculatively from Ronon to John and then Teyla.

"Okay, what do we do now?"

"Have sex?" Ronon suggested in his usual rumbly mumble that was suddenly much sexier than John had ever imagined a guy's voice could be.

"We can't." John let out a shuddery breath and struggled to remember why. "It wouldn't be consensual."

"I give my consent," said Teyla, and John glanced over to see her dropping her vest to the floor with one hand, unlacing her sleeveless top with the other, and giving Rodney that same predatory look she'd given him.

"That's good enough for me," Ronon said, but Rodney shook his head and looked back at John with a pleading look as he stripped off his vest and struggled with the straps of his holster. Standing there in just his pants and T-shirt, Rodney looked vulnerable and yet...not. John shook his head and tried to focus.

"Can we? Can we do this? I really, really want to. Surely, that's consent enough." Rodney walked over to John and slid his hand down the front of John's pants and whispered, "You want to."

And John did want to. He really, really did. "Yeah, I want to. But we _can't_." John forced himself to pull Rodney's hand away, even though Rodney's hand on his cock, even through his pants, was the best thing John had felt in months. "We can't have group sex because aliens slipped us Roofies. That is not a mission report I want to write."

"Oh, now that's just not fair," wailed Rodney and John turned to see what Rodney was talking about. Ronon had stripped his ragged excuse for a shirt off and started on the laces of his pants. "How can we not?"

Teyla stalked over--her breasts _almost_ spilling out of her unlaced top--and grabbed Ronon by his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers.

"That's really not fair," Rodney said in a cracked voice next to John's ear. His erection pressed against John's ass and his hands splayed over the front of John's vest. And John wished Rodney was touching his naked belly. "I want some of that."

"Which one?" The words left John's mouth almost against his will. His resolution was wavering and it was getting harder to remember why--"Oh, yeah, _harder_."

Rodney shoved his hips against John's ass and gasped, "All of you. When else am I going to get a chance with either of them?"

"But you think you have a chance with me?" John couldn't help pressing his ass back against Rodney's groin, but he did manage to keep from spreading his legs. Just.

"The thought has crossed my mind." Rodney buried his face in the crook of John's neck and started pulling at his belt buckle.

John wasn't surprised. Incredibly turned on, yes, but not really surprised because he'd entertained the notion a few times himself. He might have cast a playfully lusty eye at both Ronon and Teyla on occasion, but Rodney was different. Always had been. Doing this with the built-in excuse of alien drugs would relieve him of responsibility, but would just add to the guilt he already carried over so many previous events. But he wanted to do it. He wanted to drag Rodney down on the floor and suck him stupid, he wanted to shove himself between Ronon and Teyla and let Ronon fuck him while he fucked Teyla, he wanted to get tangled up in his team on that low, wide bed the Clallarral had so thoughtfully provided, groping and licking and touching and sucking everything that he could get his mouth and hands and dick on, he wanted...

"I can't." John shoved Rodney hands away and refastened his pants. He stepped forward and pulled Teyla away from Ronon, who only shrugged and reached for John instead. "No, you can't either." Without even looking over his shoulder at where he'd shoved Teyla, he pointed and said, "Rodney, get away from her and stand in that corner. Teyla, go sit on the bed. The other side of the bed. _Now._ "

"Rodney and I cannot touch, but you and Ronon can have sex right in front of us? That is hardly fair," Teyla said, and John made the mistake of turning his back on Ronon.

"No, that's--" His breath flew out of him as his chest hit the floor. Ronon straddled him and with a quick flip had John on his back with his vest open and his T-shirt up to his throat before he could get his breath back. Ronon's tongue did really hot things to John's torso for a full fifteen seconds before John could get his hands to move and his mouth to work. "That's enough," he said through gritted teeth, because his cock was so hard it hurt and it wasn't even close to enough. He shoved hard at Ronon and managed to tip him back enough so that John could scoot back across the floor. He realized he probably looked ridiculous but protecting his team from themselves was more important than his personal dignity.

When he got clear, he shot a quick look around to check on Rodney and Teyla and found them in a clinch in the middle of the bed. Feeling completely at the end of his rope, John reached down and drew his sidearm out of his holster. "That's enough," he shouted in his best 'you raw recruits better listen to me' command voice. "Pick a corner of the room and stand in it. First one that moves out of his or her corner will be shot. Do I make myself clear?"

With much grumbling and some surprisingly creative swearing from Rodney, the other three did as they were told, making John wonder if it was the drugs because usually they'd put up more of an argument, especially Rodney who would never believe that John would shoot him.

"We are not horny teenagers," John told them, backing toward the safety of his own corner. Ronon and Teyla just stared at him blankly. "I mean, we have self control and we are going to start exercising it right now."

Rubbing his face with his free hand, John sighed. "Teyla, please do up your top. As much as we all enjoy the view, I don't think it's helping with the whole control thing. Ronon, put your shirt on and--oh." John stared and then swallowed the saliva that flooded his mouth. "Your pants, too."

When everyone was decently covered again, John walked over to the bed and jerked the gauzy coverlet off. He tossed it and one of the pillows at Teyla, not trusting himself to walk over and hand it to her. He threw pillows to the other men and took one for himself before retreating back to his corner.

"Okay, here's what we'll do. We'll sit down and make ourselves comfortable. We stay away from each other until dawn or the drug wears off, and then we go finish our trade and get the hell off this skeevy planet." John looked at them all one by one, saving Rodney for last and then added, "What happens after that is up to you."

"This is really messed up, you know. We're all competent--" Rodney broke off and looked at Ronon with a dangerous gleam in his eye "--sexually mature adults, and you're making us sit in the corner like naughty--" He cast a glance at Teyla and wrapped his hands around his knees, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. "Like naughty children. It's ridiculous."

John tightened his grip on his gun and shoved his pillow behind him to make himself more comfortable. He didn't dare get too comfortable because he couldn't let himself fall asleep.

"Do you know what sitting on the floor all night is going to do to my back? I'll be lucky if I can even stand up in the morning."

"Sounds like it's already wearing off, McKay," John said with a faint smile.

Rodney smirked. "I still want to fuck you."

Oh, yes, please. _Shut up,_ John told himself. "Okay, then. Why don't you stretch out on the floor and give your back a rest?"

Rodney started to say something but John cut him off. "And your mouth."

"I would be glad to give him something with which to occupy his mouth, John."

"Teyla, that's not helping either. Just go to sleep," John said with a tired sigh. Teyla bared her teeth at him, then curled up with her back to him. He stared at the elegant curve of her spine and wished she'd use the coverlet.

An endless moment later, he dragged his gaze away to check on the others. Ronon was stretched out on his side facing John, staring at him as his hand worked its way into his pants. John watched for longer than he should have before closing his eyes briefly. "You too, Ronon. Go to sleep. I'll keep watch."

Ronon rolled over on to his back and with a few minutes seemed to followed John's order. John could see the outline of his still-hard cock and thought it must be the drugs making them suggestible enough to follow what would otherwise have been an impossible order to obey.

Rodney was still sitting up, watching John watching the others.

"You really want her, don't you?" Rodney asked quietly.

"I--" John stopped and thought about it hard for a moment. "She's beautiful and strong and...no, I don't ordinarily think of her this way."

"And Ronon?" Rodney asked, tension visible in every line of his face.

John didn't like this little interrogation much, so he countered with a question of his own. "What about you?"

"I already told you about me." Rodney maintained eye contact past the point of comfort but John was damned if he'd look away first.

"Yes, you did, didn't you?" A non-answer if John had ever given one, but actually addressing Rodney's question wouldn't be prudent under the circumstances.

They sat in silence, until John had to shift position to accommodate his still half-hard dick.

"You, uh...you could take care of that if you wanted," said Rodney, his voice soft and husky. The tone was even more intimate than when Rodney had said he wanted to fuck John. And just the thought of that took John from half-hard back to fully hard and ready to go. Rodney smiled almost sweetly and added, "I'll stay way over here, out of harm's way."

John looked over at Teyla and at Ronon, but neither had moved and both were breathing evenly. He glanced back at Rodney and bit his lip.

Rodney pushed at John just a little. "Self consent is possible, isn't it? I certainly give myself permission to take care of this." He unzipped his pants, shoved them down to his ankles, and took out his erection.

John swallowed hard against the ache in his groin and in his chest. He wanted to crawl across the floor and take care of Rodney himself, over and over again, but that would be bad. He couldn't remember quite _why_ it would be bad, but the admonishment was there in his head nonetheless. There was only one thing to do here.

Laying his gun down within easy reach, John opened his belt and unfastened his pants to Rodney's breathy encouragement.

"Yes, do it, John, do it. Doesn't that feel good? Take off your holster and pull your pants down further so I can see. I...I wanna _see_ you."

John sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and followed the suggestion. His gaze darted all around the room before settling on Rodney. They faced each other with the length of the room between them, maybe a dozen feet at most, but at once it felt like miles and entirely too close. Rodney's legs were splayed as wide as the pants around his ankles would allow, giving John a clear view of his hands, one cradling his balls and the other stroking his dick, slow and teasing. John lowered his pants to his feet to mirror the position, and let his hands mirror Rodney's as well, stroking, stroking, light and easy. He gave in to the unavoidable push of desire with relief even as he knew it was not all drug-related and not something he'd ever forget or be able to pretend hadn't happened. He and Rodney were doing this together, they were having sex just as much as if they actually were touching.

Rodney tilted his head back and watched John through half-closed eyes, his hands moving with well-practiced confidence, showing John what he liked, what got him hottest. John was a very good student, making mental notes about the nipple pinching and the thigh rubbing and the hand dipping deep between Rodney's legs.

He gave Rodney a few pointers of his own, tilting his head to one side and running the tips of his fingers down the side of neck, his hand sliding over his belly, the twist of his wrist when he flicked his thumb over the head of his cock. Rodney's mouth was hanging open just a little as he breathed hard and fast and John really wanted to taste it, wanted to lick Rodney's lips and touch his tongue, breathe his breath and feel his warmth.

It suddenly became too much to bear and John slammed his eyes closed and jerked himself off with ruthless efficiency. He came with a shuddering gasp, and collapsed back against the wall. Hearing his name, he opened his eyes just in time to see Rodney come, staring straight at John with a beautifully painful expression.

John shuddered again and reach into a pocket for a handkerchief to clean his hand off with. After a moment, Rodney did the same thing and, by unspoken agreement, they both turned away slightly to put their clothes to rights. John picked up his gun and put it back in its holster. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Sure." Rodney slid down until his head hit his pillow. "Maybe you should rest too."

John didn't say anything because they both knew he wouldn't.

"We should at least think about it," Rodney said, just when John had figured he'd fallen asleep. "Back on Atlantis. Just think about it is all."

"Goodnight, Rodney."

"I'm just saying," Rodney said, around a yawn.

"I know." John leaned his head back against the wall. The night was only half over and thinking about it was all he had.

 

***

 

Teyla was the first to wake up and John could tell the drug had worn off before she even spoke. He felt no more than a mild surface attraction and she wore an expression of careful blankness. Neither spoke until Ronon went from being sound asleep to sitting upright, hand on his gun. "You always wake up like that?"

"Mostly," Ronon said with a shrug.

John nodded and got to his feet, stretching out his back and arching his shoulders as he did so. Neither Ronon nor Teyla paid him any attention, so he walked over to nudge Rodney's leg with his boot. "Rise and shine, McKay. The sooner we get the deal made, the sooner we can go home."

"I'm up. I'm awake. You don't have to kick me."

John smirked down at him and nudged his leg again just because he could and Rodney made such a funny noise when he did it. He waited until Rodney was sitting up and everyone looked more or less alert and then clapped his hands together once.

"Is anyone feeling stoned, horny, or otherwise under the influence?" Nobody said anything, so John nodded. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're all soldiers--" He glanced at Teyla and amended, "warriors." He glanced at Rodney and added, "Mostly. So we are going to treat this like any other battlefield experience. Ignore it, forget it, get drunk and cry about it, go see Heightmeyer if you have to, but don't let it affect how you do your job."

"That sounds...sensible," said Teyla with an understanding tilt of her head. John found that his eyes kept trying to slide away from her in discomfort, so he forced himself to meet her gaze as he nodded in return.

"Fine with me," Ronon shrugged and started checking his weapons.

"Rodney?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever." Rodney got to his feet, frowning and rubbing his lower back as he turned away. "Let's just get out of here."

John caught Teyla's eye and tilted his head toward the door. He waited until she'd taken Ronon outside and then he stopped Rodney from following with a hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Ignoring and forgetting are off the list." John was relieved to hear that Rodney didn't sound too upset about those options being unavailable.

"Heightmeyer?" John suggested with a smile. He swept his thumb up the side of Rodney's neck and tried to focus on his face instead of staring down at his ass.

"No, and I don't think I want to cry about it either, although getting drunk is definitely a possible coping mechanism. I figure within a year or two, I'll be able to look at Teyla without flushing." Rodney looked over his shoulder and smiled. "You're pretty good with your hands."

"Thank you. When we get home, I'll show you how good." John dropped his hand and stepped back.

"You know, that drink might not be too bad under controlled cir--"

"No, Rodney."

"I'm just saying...in the spirit of scientific inquiry--"

"No, Rodney." John tilted his head toward the door and smiled. "Come on, let's go home."

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> A big huge thank you to Malnpudl and Nemoinis for saving me from myself with their mad beta skills.


End file.
